


A Quick Break!

by lionfjsh



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, The Pocky Game, au where everything is FINE and nobody DIES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 01:04:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16587776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionfjsh/pseuds/lionfjsh
Summary: Ouma thinks Saihara needs a break from his late-night detective work.





	A Quick Break!

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pocky Day~!

It was eleven o’clock in the evening. The air outside was chilly, a November frost beginning to settle over the darkened streets only illuminated by the flickering street lamps that lined the block. The night was still. Not a car nor animal had passed by, and not even the leaves on the trees had bothered to fall. It almost looked like a photograph.

Violet eyes drifted away from the window and back to the room in front of them. Unlike the nippy late autumn night outside, the small office was warm, basked in the comforting yellow glow of a lamp sitting on the large desk at the back of the room. Books were scattered on chairs, sticky notes plastered to page after page, all with thin, neat handwriting scrawled across them. A mess of papers were strewn about on the desk, more sticky notes haphazardly stuck onto a few of them.

Hunched over, hands on the desk and head hanging low, was the lead detective of the private investigation agency. His hair was tousled from the countless hours of running his hands through it in frustration. His eyes were drooping, his brain fried. He’d been staring at the same documents for hours, desperate to draw some kind of conclusion from the evidence laid before him.

Ouma watched him carefully, quietly. He had shown up hours earlier, prepared for a date the detective had promised him. However, upon his arrival, he was begged to wait for just a little bit longer. He wasn’t usually a quiet man - he wasn’t usually a _patient_ man - but even he had enough tact to realise that the situation called for it.

At first he’d busied himself well enough. Mostly messing around with his phone out in the lobby. Kirigiri and that nosy secretary of theirs, Akamatsu, were both still there when he’d arrived, so he wasn’t able to sneak into Saihara’s office. Something about confidentiality. But soon enough, even those two turned in for the night, leaving Ouma and Saihara alone in the building. Ouma settled onto the couch in Saihara’s office then, idly flipping through the books he’d had to move in order to find somewhere to sit in the first place.

He’d gotten bored of that though, of course, and so for the last half hour or so he’d been content just watching Saihara. He thought the way he furrowed his eyebrows when he was focusing particularly hard was incredibly cute. However, despite how adorable he thought those little quirks were, it was clear that Saihara was getting increasingly more upset. He was beginning to worry that he was putting too much pressure on himself. 

Saihara had said they were close to a breakthrough. They weren’t, of course, but they hadn’t taken even the tiniest step closer to an answer, and he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from his work until at least _something_ was done. The longer it took them to figure it out, the higher the chances were that the culprit was never caught. He felt a little bad lying to Ouma, but he was pretty sure the boy could see right through him anyways.

With a sigh, he leaned back, running his hands over his face. He glanced at the clock on the wall, feeling his heart sink as he realised how late it had gotten. Saihara had promised his boyfriend a date. He’d promised him _weeks_ ago. And he had ended up blowing him off because of his own incompetence. His eyes fell again to glance at Ouma, only to see that he was already looking at him.

“You know, you don’t have to stay,” Saihara said quietly, giving him an apologetic smile.

“Yeah I do!” Ouma protested. “We had a date, remember?”

Shuichi winced. “Y… Yeah…” he said slowly. “I’m really sorry about that, Kokichi, I really am, but-”

“Stop right there!” Ouma interrupted, holding up a finger. “I know you’re trying to work on that silly case, so it’s fine.” Saihara sighed with relief. “But I think you need to take a break!”

“I can’t-”

“Sure ya can!”

Saihara stared at him for a moment, but the big goofy grin never left his face. With a sigh, he gave in. “Alright, alright. But it has to be quick.”

“Don’t worry,” Ouma assured him, digging around in his bag for something. Saihara was still worried. “Just a quick game! A few minutes!”

“A game?” Saihara echoed. Sometimes he wondered if Ouma had aged a single day since junior high. He walked around his desk, throwing some more books on the floor in order to make room for himself on the couch next to him. For someone who seemed so organised and put together, Saihara had a surprising amount of disregard for the sheer amount of clutter in his workspace.

“Yep! A game,” Ouma said, holding up a bright red box of pocky in front of them.

Saihara blinked, a little startled by the box shoved into his face so suddenly. “Pocky?” he asked, confused as to where he was going with that.

“Yeah? Don’t you know what day it is, dummy?” Ouma teased. “It’s the eleventh!” he continued, without waiting for an answer. “And that means…?”

“I believe the Americans celebrate Veterans Day today,” Saihara guessed, putting a finger to his chin. “And I’m pretty sure it’s Independence Day somewhere in Europe, but I-”

Ouma stared at him with a deadpan, almost not believing that someone so smart could be so absolutely dense. “It’s Pocky Day, you moron!” he cried, whacking him on the head with the box.

Saihara blinked at him. “Oh.”

“We’re gonna play the pocky game!” Ouma continued, quickly opening the box and yanking out a stick. He stuck the chocolate covered end in his mouth and looked at Saihara expectantly. “C’mon Shumai, what’re you waiting for?”

“I, ah, don’t know what to do…” Saihara admitted sheepishly. He could feel his cheeks turning pink from the embarrassment.

“Oh my god,” Ouma mumbled, rolling his eyes. “I fell in love with an idiot.”

“Hey!” Saihara cried indignantly.

“Alright, Saihara-chan,” Ouma started, his voice slightly muffled due to the biscuit sticking out of his mouth. “It’s so simple even _you_ should be able to figure it out.” Saihara frowned. “All you gotta do is bite onto the other end of this pocky. We take turns biting off more until someone, probably you, chickens out or takes the last bite! And that person, again, probably you, loses.”

“Okay,” Saihara said hesitantly. “Sounds simple enough.” He was too preoccupied thinking about what exactly taking the last bite would entail to comment on the usual teasing from Ouma.

“So come on then!” Ouma urged. “I thought you said you wanted this to be a short break.”

“I do,” Saihara sighed, leaning over to take the other end of the pocky between his teeth. Almost immediately, he regretted jumping right into Ouma’s antics without much thought. He hadn’t realised just how close that already put their faces, and they were meant to get closer?!

Ouma was smirking at him, holding direct eye contact as he watched Saihara’s face get redder by the second. He’d never admit it, but he was getting a little flustered as well. He did his best to hide the fact that his heart rate had kicked up a couple of notches.

Without any warning at all, Ouma quickly opened his mouth and chomped down, taking off at least half of the stick between them. Startled, Saihara jerked back with a cry of surprise, leaving Ouma to laugh at him.

“Wow, that was fast!” he exclaimed, sticking the rest of the pocky into his mouth. “I didn’t expect you to lose _that_ quickly, Saihara-chan. How _lame_. It was almost disappointing! Nishishi!”

“H-Hey, wait,” Saihara protested. “That wasn’t fair, you just surprised me! Let me try again!”

“If you say so,” Ouma said with a shrug, pulling out another piece of pocky. “But you’re just gonna lose again, so what’s the point?”

Ignoring Ouma’s teasing words, Saihara snatched the stick from him and stuck it between his lips, looking at Ouma with determination in his eyes. Ouma nearly laughed. He thought it was amusing how competitive Saihara could get over such trivial things. But that was just something he loved about him, he supposed.

Despite the fact that Ouma started off with a much more reasonably sized nibble, Saihara felt his confidence leave as quickly as it had come. With a little huff, he took a bite, bringing their faces ever closer together. Smirking, Ouma took another bite. They were close enough to feel each other’s breaths, noses nearly touching. Saihara angled his head so his nose wouldn’t ram right into Ouma’s and took yet another bite. Ouma retaliated by taking a tiny bite, leaving just enough room for Saihara to take one more. He smiled, thinking that meant for sure he’d won, and took the smallest bite he could. He quickly realised his mistake.

Throwing his arms around Saihara’s neck, Ouma snatched the last bit of pocky and pressed his lips to Saihara’s. Too shocked to do anything at first, Saihara just froze, eyes wide and quickly realising that Ouma must have planned that from the very beginning. With a small smile, his eyes fluttered closed and he relaxed, beginning to kiss his boyfriend back.

“Oh darn,” Ouma said, faking disappointment. “I guess you won, didn’t you?”

“I guess I did,” Saihara agreed. He had a smug smile on his face, cheeks red and eyes looking a lot more full of life than they had not ten minutes before. Ouma smiled as well. His mission had been accomplished.

“But I got to kiss you, so who’s the real winner here?” he teased, poking Saihara’s nose.

“I got to kiss you too, so it’s still me,” Saihara told him. Ouma rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest. “You didn’t need to make up a silly game just to get me to kiss you though.”

“Oh my god, you really are hopeless,” Ouma groaned, falling back onto the sofa.

“What did I do?” Saihara asked, head tilting a little to the side like a confused puppy.

“Nothin’!” Ouma assured him, springing up again and patting him on the head. “Come home soon and I’ll give you a lot more than just a kiss~”

“I-! That’s-!”

“Neeheehee! See you soon, Saihara-chan!”

Ouma was out the door before Saihara had a chance to say anything more. With a little laugh and a shake of his head, he stood up again and stretched. He glanced over at his desk, then at the clock, and sighed. Deciding he’d just come in early the next morning, he stacked up some papers, grabbed his bag, and turned off the lamp.

Once outside, he took a deep breath. The cool air felt nice against his burning face. The walk to his car wasn’t too far, but he did find himself wishing he’d at least brought a jacket. He didn’t think he’d be so late when he’d left that morning, and was left in just his dress shirt.

“Boo!”

“AHH!”

“Nishishi! Gotcha!”

Ouma slung an arm around Saihara’s waist, snuggling into his side. With a little laugh, Saihara draped his arm across his shoulders, grateful for the added heat. He began to walk towards his car, Ouma still hanging off of his side.

“I took the bus here, care to give me a ride?” he asked.

“Nah, you can walk,” Saihara said, ruffling his unruly hair. He still hadn’t figured out how the ends seemed to defy gravity, but he supposed he couldn’t talk.

“What!” Ouma cried indignantly. “You wouldn’t help this poor damsel in distress?! But my darling Saihara-chan, what if I die?!”

“Only joking,” Saihara assured him, kissing the top of his head.

“You’re so mean to me,” Ouma whined. He was pouting overdramatically, and Saihara laughed.

The two walked in content silence after that, listening to the sounds of the night. Though it had seemed like a still scene from the inside, it was quite the opposite effect once they’d left the building. There were crickets chirping, and a soft breeze had picked up, gently ruffling the leaves that were falling from the trees (as well as Saihara’s absurd piece of hair that never laid flat). Their footsteps were the loudest, crunching on the half frozen leaves beneath their feet. It was nice, Ouma thought. Sure they’d missed their date, but he couldn’t say he was all too disappointed.

“I love you,” Saihara said, interrupting the quiet. It was soft, affectionate. Ouma’s heart tightened.

“I know,” he replied, cheeky as always.

“Good,” Saihara said. He was smiling, and Ouma could hear it in his voice. He hadn’t expected anything more than that, after all. However, after a few moments, Ouma spoke up again.

“I love you too, Shuichi.”

“I know.”


End file.
